Heartbreaking Highs
by Sierra-Jae
Summary: 'She felt the mattress dip beneath his weight as he climbed in beside her.'


_**AN:**__ So I felt that there was a conversation between Will and Emma that was missing from 'Yes/No', and I think Emma deserves more than just an instant proposal to make everything better. I'm sure her mind would have been toying with so many questions even after Will's wonderful proposal. I imagine she would have wondered if she really was good enough and if she could be good enough. When Will asks her to marry him, her face just radiates relief and I don't know if that's what Emma deserves. I think that Will and Emma needed to have a conversation in the meantime, so here it is. _

_Also, to the anon who submitted a prompt on tumblr, that fic will be posted sometime this week. Thanks for reading! _

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><p>Will rested against the door frame of their bedroom. The room was empty of light, but Will could make out Emma's sleeping form in the darkness. "Emma?"<p>

She released a troubled breath made dramatic by the silence of the bedroom. "Yes?"

"Is it okay with you if I sleep in our bed tonight?" Will asked softly.

A pause.

"Yes."

She felt the mattress dip beneath his weight as he climbed in beside her. Her senses were overcome with want for him. He smelt like the new ocean scented soap she had bought at the farmers market the weekend before. But the scent was so far away. She needed more. He hadn't kissed her goodnight. She hadn't tasted his flesh, his daring tongue as it fought its way between her lips to slide against hers. She couldn't see him, either. She only glared outside the open window, admiring the moonlight. His breathing was hitched, troubled, but Emma only knew this if she listened carefully. The disability of her senses caused her heart to pound. What if it was always like this? That he was always there, but so distant?

She hadn't slept alone in five months. What if this was the last night his body would rest beside her?

Emma listened as Will shifted his form beneath the covers. Perhaps she imagined it, the heat that his body shared with her. But it made her feel slightly less alone. His warmth allowed Emma to remember how they had been the night before- happy, both of them wanting more from their relationship as they discussed Finn's heartbreak.

But now everything was different.

His fingertips toyed with the ends of her hair, and Emma's frame stiffened.

"I'm so sorry, Em."

She felt goose bumps rise upon her skin.

"It's okay."

As his fingers splayed into her curls and cupped the back of her head gently, Emma desired his gentle kisses he would so often place on her ear, her jaw line and her throat before they drifted off to sleep each night. She loved those moments; when there was silence and they could be so innocently intimate. What if she'd never have that again?

"I just..." he trailed off.

She rolled over to face Will, her arm pillowing her head. "I know." Emma swallowed the lump in her throat, and felt it bob its way through her chest to lie beneath her heart. "You have to think about it, about how I'm going to affect your life." She brushed aside a strand of hair that fell in her sight as she stared at the corner of the pale blue pillowcase. "I know that, Will." His hand that had played with her curls moments before rested above her head, his nearness comfortingly apparent. "I know that, because you'll affect my life, Will. Whether we get married or not."

Their gazes locked.

"I need to ask you something," she whispered.

"Sure."

"Is it because we haven't had sex yet?" Her breath was warm on his face. "Are you afraid that we'll get married and I won't let you be intimate with me?"

"Sometimes I wonder, yes," he confessed. "But that isn't what this is about."

"It's about babies."

"It's about our family," he clarified. "I don't want to put you in a position you can't handle, Em." His fingers reached out for hers, and they linked loosely. He gave her a reminder. _I'm here, and I won't give up._ "I don't want it to become too much for you, and then you leave me and our child. I don't want you to live with the guilt, and I don't want to resent you for leaving me heartbroken."

Emma drew a deep breath, and Will listened, wondering how she had the energy to keep fighting. She was strong. If only life had given her balance.

"I'd never leave you," her tone was paced with sincere morality. "And I would never, ever leave a child that was ours." A baby boy. A baby girl. "Oh, Will. I'd be too in love." Seconds passed. "But I understand your fears."

Will shifted to move closer to Emma, and their joined hands pressed against her abdomen. "Okay, what if you don't leave," Will whispered thoughtfully. "What if you get sick, Em? What if you can't handle it and your OCD gets worse, baby?"

A frustrated whimper escaped Emma's lips. "I don't...I don't know, Will." She held his hand tighter in hers, and held it firm against her warm belly. "You know that. There's only one question we should be asking."

She considered her thoughts and how to form them into words without hurting Will. "What happens if you decide that's not the kind of life you want?" Her question was softly drawn in her unique accent. "What if you don't want a life that doesn't have a definite answer? Do we break up?"

How could he answer that? "I want you to be my wife, Emma."_ Want. Focus on want. The positive. Don't put ideas in her head. Yet, don't disregard yourself, Will. _"But I want you to be the mother of my children just as badly. And I don't know if you can handle that."

She shook her head adamantly. "Will, I can. I can. I really want a baby." _Oh, Emma. _"I've always wanted a baby, but I've always been afraid." Her words were so rushed, so scared and troubled.

Will gazed at her, quieting her concerns. "Slow down, Em. It's okay."

She nodded slowly, and drew a ragged breath. "When I met you, I know it was crazy, but I thought that you were the kind of guy that would always be there to eliminate my fears...you could handle what I couldn't." She watched him intently. "You'd be a wonderful father."

"Emma, if we have a baby, I won't always be there. What if I'm teaching, or in the shower? You'll be alone with the baby so often Emma."

Her stare was hopeless, falling so quickly.

"I'm sure you'd learn to cope, Em," Will attempted to lift her spirits. "You'd try so hard. That's why I love you so much." He reached a hand out to caress her cheek. Her skin was so soft, hotter than he had ever desired when he was married and she was just the pretty guidance counsellor. "You're so passionate and determined."

"I could end up being more tiring than the baby," Emma worried with cause as the pad of his thumb traced her lips. "Are you scared that you'll fall out of love with me if I'm too much to handle?"

His heart pounded with wild sorrow. "I'm scared that your anxiety will get so bad that you'll just...I don't know..."

She began to cry softly, and he squeezed her arm, coaxing her body to press against his. His fingers curled around the slim curve of her waist. The feel of her...it sent him spiralling.

"Emma...I don't think I'll ever fall out of love with you."

"But you'd only marry me because we want to have a family together? You wouldn't just marry me because you only want me? No, children, just us?"

He hesitated, and she pulled away slightly at his rejection. He let go of his hold on her, suddenly realizing how miserable he felt without her closeness.

He moved to rest against the headboard in an attempt to clear his head, and looked down into her awaiting gaze. "Em, even marriage is so much more than what we have right now."

She sat up beside him, her stare clouded with misunderstanding. "Will, we never fight. Our lifestyle is pleasant and simple."

"I'm not talking about that." He ran a hand over his face as she watched him so intently. "Emma, I've only ever touched your breasts."

Her lips parted in confusion. "You said you were okay with that."

"I am," he nodded, his mind boggled with so many confessions. "But we aren't married. When we're married, you'll be my wife, and I'll be as faithful to you as I have been for the last six months. But..."

She gazed at Will.

"But I can't be around you all the time, being your husband the way that _you _want, only loving you the amount _you_ decide."

"You already love me so much." She played with his fingers, deflecting from the issue that plagued him so intensely. "You're so gentle and giving."

"Emma." She looked up at him slowly. His stare was strong, devouring. "If we marry, I need to be able to really express my love to you." Her skin bubbled with awareness. "I want to be closer to you."

She uncharacteristically raked a hand through her hair. "I know. You have needs."

He dropped his gaze, and admired her in the darkness. Her body was so svelte, her features so graceful. Her curves...he could only imagine.

"It's not about needs," Will divulged. "It's about the ache in my chest that flutters at the memory of what intimacy is like." _And it's been so long._ "It pounds when I think about what it would be like with you. And I can't never fulfill that, Em."

"I know that. We will need to have sex to make a baby," she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Was he close enough to read her?

"No, Emma. I need you to want it," Will demanded. "You need to want me to pleasure you, and I want you to desire to be closer to me. When you feel that way about me, too, I'll be so happy. That's what marriage is about, both of us finding happiness in the things that make the other happy."

She blushed deeper. "I do want that." His fingers traveled over her forearm, up and down, up and down. The moment was prolonged until Emma broke the silence. "...I want to make love to you."

He traced her jaw line with his palm. "Oh, sweetheart. Emma, what are you afraid of?"

"This."

"What?"

She turned her face into his palm, and he felt the wetness of her falling tears. "I'm afraid that I'll be vulnerable with you, and you'll leave me."

"I'm afraid of the same thing."

"You are?"

"Yes." She rested her forehead on his shoulder. "The more time I spend with you, the more I fall in love with you. The more I realize I want a life with you. I know you're trying to get better, but we need to try to stop being afraid, too."

"I..." she insisted blindly.

"I'm not asking for sex, Emma. I'm asking you to want me."

She buried her face in his neck, and planted a flurry of soft kisses on his heated skin to prove her point. "But I don't want to hurt you by asking." Her lips were hot and warm and too much, and Will turned his face to meet hers. "I can't help but think, Em." She pulled away slowly. "That hesitation makes me wonder if you could cope with-

"I do want you," her tone was strong as she shuffled down the bed and rolled over to her side, as far away as she had been when he stepped into the room. "And I'm trying." His whole body ached for her as he listened to her speak, so confidently aware.

Will sighed heavily and scooted beneath the covers. He glared at the wardrobe. Her dresses, his vests. Tomorrow would be a new day. Maybe things would be okay.

Faintly, Will could hear gentle whimpers, stifled sobs that made his body tremble. What could he do? _Oh, Emma._

Her voice broke the silence when the sounds of her crying had ceased. "I don't think you could be with anyone else," she murmured huskily.

Silence, and another stifled sob.

"You...Will, sometimes you call for me in your sleep..."


End file.
